


Hunger

by DemonAngelSakina



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Blood Drinking, Bloodletting, Flirting, Half-Fae, M/M, Male Slash, Mélusine - Freeform, Slash, Vampirism, donor, past relationship, references to past BDSM, sexualized situations, teased infidelity, technically interspecies, use of 'master' and 'pet' terminology, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 20:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonAngelSakina/pseuds/DemonAngelSakina
Summary: "If...you need to feed, tell me. I will feed you...even if you need me to...say, feed you with a kiss?"





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> This story includes but is not limited to: some light bloodletting, blood drinking, sexualized situations, maleXmale relationship--meaning slash, people.  
> If any of that does not sound appealing to you, I implore you to not read any further.  
> For everyone else--even those curious to explore--please enjoy.

The room was dark, save for the silver-white light of the full moon outside the window; unsteadily, the man in black leaned on the antique floor-length mirror--his forearms and forehead pressed to the cold surface as he drew in a shuddering, pained breath. Slowly, storm gray eyes rose to meet the mirror's reflection--reading the lines of the cursed hunger growing on his pale face; he growled softly, trying to continue fighting the near-overwhelming urge to feed the hunger...there was almost no one whom he could trust to sate this craving...and, even if there was, he felt as if something human in him would die should he dare to surrender. A frown grew on his face--surrender could be easy and far less painful than this. 

Turning sharp eyes to the wrists above his head, he moved one hand to the other wrist--pushing away the sleeve and pressing calloused fingers to a scarred wrist, feeling the pulse beneath the still-warm flesh; he didn't know if he should be happy or angry at the wild, erratic pulse of his blood from both this terrible hunger and the war within himself--the war between the part that wished surrender and the parts that wished to remain human. He pulled the sleeve of the thin, black pullover back down over his wrist, his thin lips pressed in a tight line as he tried to sort through the raging storm in his mind--he knew he should be used to this...he was almost forty now and had been dealing with this terrible hunger since he was twenty; this should be...easier to deal with. 

With a low hiss, he pushed himself from the mirror and stepped back a few steps; he grasped the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled it off--grimacing as he removed the tight material. He tossed the shirt aside and slowly ran pale fingers over the blood-speckled bandaging encircling his abdomen and ribcage--the wounds beneath still failing to heal despite his best attempts.

"...If I drink, these wounds will heal and I will lose another piece of my soul; if I do not drink, I will only grow worse." The man said to the darkness, his voice long since-aged from bourbon and cigarettes, but the distinct British accent remained strong and clear. With a scowl, the man turned from the mirror, raking his fingers through his straight, shoulder-length black hair as he walked across the inn room to the window--the moonlight glinting softly off of the two steel pendants hanging from around his neck--was his soul worth his continued existence in this world? He knew that he had drank the first time, when he was twenty, to escape from the iron-clad grip of the drug and alcohol addictions that had controlled him for four years--it seemed like a fair trade...a means to escape his addictions and live a full life without having to be bitten...and all he had to do was drink. But now...almost twenty years later, the price had revealed itself--a new addiction to drink...and it could very well cost him even more.

A knock at the heavy, wooden door drew the man from his thoughts; he was prepared to ignore whoever was on the other side, until the knock came again--this time in a far too familiar 'pattern'. Quickly he snatched up his black, woolen naval-uniform-style coat and threw it on--hurrying to button the ornate steel buttons as he walked to the door; when he deemed himself fully 'hidden away' once more, he unlocked the heavy door and pulled it open.

The pink-haired man on the other side grinned at him--a pale, claw-tipped hand delicately toying with the silver ring suspended from the center of the ornate silver collar encircling his slender throat. The black-clad male glared at the pink-haired one standing infront of him before taking in the other's dress: a thin, black silk, off-the-shoulder 'peasant'-style shirt that barely came up to the younger man's collarbones; a black-trimmed, pink latex corset was worn over the shirt--just slightly pinching in the other's already slender waist; tight black leather pants hung low on his hips--the butter-soft leather clinging enticingly to his long legs; the lines between his pants and shirt hidden by the corset and the pink, rose-patterned, lace hip scarf that was draped and knotted around his hips; a pair of black, high-heeled leather boots were on his feet--polished until they shone. The silver collar gleamed around his delicate neck--complimented by the ornate pair of silver slave bracelets on his wrists.

"Dressing conservatively? I am in shock, Fiore." The black-haired man deadpanned--one pale hand resting on the doorframe. The pink-haired male--Fiore--laughed lightly and brushed several jaw-length locks of his hair behind a pointed, fin-edged ear.

"Still dressed for a funeral, Dresdin?" Fiore said playfully before a small, concerned frown formed on his delicate face--pale lips pressed together in a thin line. He raised a hand and gently placed it to the elder's slightly sunken cheek--taking in the heavier-than-normal dark circles beneath the other's storm gray eyes. Slowly, Fiore moved forward and slipped under Dresdin's arm--walking into the room and earning an irritated protest from the elder male...though the black-haired man still shut the door and locked it rather than physically forcing the smaller, twenty-six-year-old out of the room.

"Fiore--"

"How bad are the wounds? And don't try to tell me you aren't wounded--I can smell the blood." Fiore said, noting the slight widening of the other's eyes before Dresdin schooled his expression back to his, seemingly default, neutral-coldness.

"They are of no concern to you."

"Really now?" Fiore asked--the question practically a purr as it left his lips--as he slid in close to Dresdin, their chests touching as best they could with the slight height difference. Slowly, the younger slid his slim hands up the elder's chest to the top closures of the coat--lightly tapping his claw-tips to the ornately-engraved, steel buttons.

"I am fine, Fiore--and you? You should go. You are involved with another now." Dresdin said coolly before bowing his head some--his storm-hued eyes locking, and holding, with the heavily made-up, ice-blue hues of the younger...before his rough voice turned as smooth as bourbon from just a drop in octave. "Best to not dwell on ex-lovers like me."

"Who says that I am dwelling?" Fiore said quietly, his own voice a sultry purr--the undertones of his German accent practically vanishing in the wake of the drop in volume. 

The elder's face remained impassive, but he was fighting with himself yet again--this time against the urge to reach for the slender male before him. He craved to bring his hands up from his sides and grasp his ex-lover tightly in his arms--he wanted so desperately to touch the other's pale skin...caress the barely-there, pale blue-white scales along Fiore's shoulders and back; he practically ached to feel the familiar warmth of the half-Fae, even if only for a few minutes, in hopes of chasing away the cold that seemed to have overtaken his life for almost twenty-five years.

A sharp hiss left Dresdin's lips--revealing a set of dagger-sharp canines--as Fiore's slender fingers found the bandaged wounds hidden beneath the now-opened coat.

"Seems quite serious to me." Fiore whispered, flicking his forked tongue lightly against his own sharp teeth--serpentine eyes momentarilly wide at the sight of blood-speckled bandaging against deathly-pale, scarred skin.

"And here I had almost forgotten just how 'skilled' those talented hands of yours truly are." Dresdin mused sarcastically as the half-Fae slowly pushed the thick woolen material of the coat away so that the coat was barely on the elder's shoulders--the bandaged wounds on his abdomen exposed to the younger's eyes.

"You need to feed." Was all Fiore said, looking up at Dresdin--concern the only expression on his face...concern so few ever saw.

"And where, pray tell, would I find a proper 'feed' here?" Dresdin said, his already low tone dropping dangerously to a rough growl--his storm-hued eyes momentarilly flashing to a pale, cat-like green hue.

"You could always feed from me...'Master'." Fiore whispered--tilting his head so that he was peering up at the elder man through long, rose-colored bangs. He moved one hand up to press against the black-haired man's chest--feeling the steady beat of the other's heart beneath the deceptively strong chest. Dresdin growled lowly as his eyes shifted again to that cat-like hue--practically glowing in the moonlit room as he moved forward so that they were pressed to one another, both taking in a deep breath at the contrast of silk, latex, and deceptively cool skin against warm flesh and rough bandaging.

"I thought...we had agreed that you could no longer call me by that title after we 'broke up'...'pet'."

"What can I say? I always think of you the same way--my first on so very many delightful things, 'Master'." Came the soft response as Fiore trailed his clawtips delicately over Dresdin's chest--leaving delicate, red marks in his wake.

"You are involved with another--"

"It's...not as if you and I are going to do anything...'risque', now is it?"

"...Just a sip." Dresdin said after several tense minutes--raising a calloused, scarred hand to pet the younger's down-soft hair; his other hand rose, his ring finger hooking into the ring suspended from the center of the silver collar.

"Just a sip." Fiore whispered with a shuddery gasp as his head was tilted back just slightly--how long had it been since they had been so close? He had craved this man's touch for so long--craved it like oxygen...like an addiction all his own; he missed this...the domination, the electricity that always seemed to dance like a wild storm between them. His eyes slid shut as a familiar relief flooded his senses at the knowledge that he wasn't alone in feeling the familiar charge in the night air--he wasn't alone in feeling the pull that always seemed to draw them back to one another. Slowly, Fiore drew his hands up to press over Dresdin's heart before beginning to trail them--almost torturously slow--down the elder's chest and defined abdomen to the hemline of the black-haired man's ink-black jeans.

Slowly, the pair moved towards the king-sized bed that dominated the room--only parting long enough for Dresdin to retrieve a small penknife from an inner pocket of his coat. The black-haired man turned to looked back to the bed just as Fiore dropped down onto the thick mattress and plush bedding--the slender man laying back against the dark-hued bedding with an easy grin. Dresdin rolled his eyes at the half-Fae's display--that was such an old, yet delightful to watch, trick of the exotic beauty. Slowly Dresdin approached the bed, giving a practiced roll of his shoulders that had the thick material of his coat easing itself the rest of the way off--the jet dark material sliding down muscled arms before falling to pool on the floor. A small part of the elder man's mind muttered about just how wrong this was for him to slide back into his favorite role with such ease with someone who, in all honesty, was no longer his to play this role for...but the hunger within surged to life and silenced that small part the moment that it tried to voice its existence.

"If I did not know better, I would suspect that you were attempting to seduce me, 'pet'."

"Just...getting comfortable." Fiore whispered as Dresdin climbed onto the bed--the elder moving so that he was leaning over the younger male. Slowly, Dresdin slid a hand behind the half-Fae's neck--expertly undoing the hidden latches at the back of the collar...the familiarity practically sparking a fire in the pair as the lock released. Carefully, the black-haired man opened the two pieces of the collar, slipping the cool metal free and laying the opened collar to the side--the metal practically glowing, from the moonlight, where it lay on the dark bedding.

"Like what you see...'Master'?" Fiore whispered, arching his bare throat to the elder as a calloused hand began to gently caress the smooth, ivory skin.

"You...are being quite...noisy, 'pet'." Dresdin said as he leaned down, pressing a closed-mouth kiss to the juncture of the pink-haired male's throat and shoulder before lightly scraping his teeth over the silken skin. Fiore's eyes slid closed as he lay beneath the elder--relishing in the familiar touches that only served to stoke the rekindling flames. With each slow touch, Dresdin was guiding Fiore into a completely relaxed state; the half-Fae almost laughed to himself--even at his most cold, the elder had always been quite considerate as a Master...stern and controlling, yes, but always careful and cautious about how far and how quickly he pushed.

Slowly, Dresdin drew one of Fiore's almost-delicate hands up to him, kissing the knuckles lightly before undoing the bracelet from the smooth wrist. Fiore shivered slightly as the elder pressed a soothing kiss to the underside of the joint, running his tongue gently over the pale skin--a flash of silver came into the younger's sight as the black-haired man brought the delicate penknife to the half-Fae's slim wrist. Fiore shivered at the familiar feeling of cold steel pressed against his flesh and brought his free hand up to grip at Dresdin's stronger shoulder.

"Just to remind you, 'pet'...there may be some...'momentary discomfort'."

"You...are such a closet dork." Fiore said with a playful smile before Dresdin brought the blade across ivory skin--crimson welling up from the wound; as the blood began to flow, the elder sealed his lips over the fresh wound--refusing to allow even a drop of the precious fluid to escape. The pink-haired male gasped sharply, eyes closed tightly as the familiar surge of pleasure-laced pain shot through him when Dresdin's tongue ran over the wound to draw more blood to the surface. Slowly, Dresdin drew back to lick his lips--a trickle of crimson having slipped free from the corner of his mouth.

"Your blood is always such a treat, 'pet'--sweet like honey." Dresdin purred as he shifted to bring his lips to the half-Fae's exposed throat--lightly caressing his fingertips over the healing wound on Fiore's wrist. A shuddery gasp escaped the younger's lips when the elder's lips began trailed soft, open-mouth kisses along the length of the pink-haired male's throat to the line of his shoulders; slowly the soft kisses shifted to brush over the smooth line of Fiore's collarbones, causing ice blue eyes to close in a soft, pleased moan.

"Look at me, 'pet'." Dresdin whispered lowly against the soft skin--his rough voice seemingly turning to velvet from the familiarity between them...the second-nature ease in which they slipped into their roles. Ice-blue eyes opened to half-mast, peering through rose-hued locks at the elder's half-crouched position that was so agonizingly close to bringing their bodies into a familar, intimate rhythm. Dresdin leaned down, nipping lightly at the smooth skin offered to him--his own, cat-green eyes practically glowing in the dim light and completely focused on the half-Fae's own. Fiore gasped sharply, his pale hands rising quickly to grasp tightly to the elder's biceps as Dresdin cleanly sliced a shallow cut into the flesh of the younger's neck, just near his shoulder--the black-haired male immediately sealing his lips over the fresh wound.

"Dre--'Master'!" Fiore called out, eyes wide and glassed over from the mix of pain and pleasure as Dresdin drank freely from him--the half-Fae's hands sliding up to grasp onto the elder's shoulders for support. Dresdin kept the slender male 'pinned' to the bed as he drank--running his tongue over the cut to draw more blood to the surface. Had his mouth not been otherwise occupied, the black-haired man would have smirked as Fiore bucked and arched against him, moaning sweetly for him in that inhumanly perfect voice. Slowly, Dresdin drew back and looked down at the younger man pinned beneath him--his tongue lightly flicking out to lick at his own blood-stained lips before he leaned back down to Fiore, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"My, my...did the pain turn you on so much?"

"Not...not the pain--more...the one causing the pain...and the pleasure." Fiore whispered, practically breathless, with a sly smile as Dresdin gently caressed the soft, rose-hued locks near the half-Fae's fine face--his fingertips delicately brushing over the soft, almost hidden blue-white scales that delicately framed the sides of Fiore's delicate face. The familiarity between them only drew them closer to one another, their lips almost touching--it would be easy...immeasurably so, for them to close those scant few inches and throw all caution to the wind. No one outside of this room would ever have to know...but still Dresdin could not make himself close that gap.

"Shame...you being with another, means that you and I have already done far more than we should have." Dresdin said--their proximity melding his warm breath with the half-Fae's cooler breaths. Fiore bit his lower lip and finally broke the eye contact between them, looking at the window from the corner of his eyes.

"I love him--I swear I do...he gives me everything I have always needed."

Dresdin was about to speak, but Fiore looked back at him, locking their eyes once more--the electricity in the room sparked to life a thousand-fold from the sheer intensity of the smoldering heat in those ice-blue, serpentine eyes.

"But you...you give me what I want."

"I know...but you love him, not me. Return to him." Dresdin whispered before carefully fitting the silver collar back around the half-Fae's delicate throat; he drew up Fiore's slender wrist and easily fitted the silver slave bracelet back into its place. Slowly, the pair seperated as the black-haired man rose from the bed, extending a death-pale hand to the younger and gently pulling the pink-haired half-Fae to his feet. Dresdin did not release Fiore's hand, choosing to guide the lithe being to the door; they stopped at the closed door and the pink-haired man peered up at the black-haired one as Dresdin unlocked the door.

"If...you need to feed, tell me. I will feed you...even if you need me to...say, feed you with a kiss?" Fiore whispered before he stepped through the door and into the pitch-black hallway; he turned back to look at Dresdin, the elder giving a simple nod as a bitter half-smile formed on his face--that cat-like green hue had disappeared from his eyes, returning them to their normal, stormy hue.

"I will keep that in mind. Good night, 'pet'." Dresdin whispered, brushing a hand over the half-Fae's cheek as Fiore's delicate fingers toyed with the ring hanging from the center of his silver collar.

"Good night, 'Master'." Fiore whispered before walking away and disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

Dresdin closed the door and locked it--staring at the ornate carvings in the wood--before turning to press his back against the wood. His hands slowly moved to his ribs and abdomen, undoing the bandaging and discarding it to the floor without even looking; with the cloth gone, he ran his hands over the healed wounds before turning to look at himself in the mirror--his eyes immediately flashing back to the cat-like green hue, glowing in the darkness as he felt his teeth sharpening. He turned his head away from his reflection and his hands tightened into fists that came back to hit the door in frustration; he bowed his head, whispering to the darkness engulfing him.

"You...you are what I need. You...are what I want. If you ever return to me again, 'pet'...I will not be able to force myself to let you go again...so please, stay away from me."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all who read this story. *bows*  
> Here's a smidge of background info for you since I have no idea if I would ever do more with these two characters.
> 
> The characters:  
> Dresdin--a forty-year-old former drug addict and alcoholic, currently the donor to a vampiress who has, more than once, fed him her own blood...and slowly--as in over the last twenty years--turning into a vampire, requiring only a death to cement the change in him.
> 
> Fiore--a twenty-six-year-old half-Fae, half-human and water elementalist; was formerly involved with Dresdin in a six year long relationship that ended quite amicably; still cares about his former lover even if they are not in love with one another.


End file.
